


Sweet Dreams

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: The Brood AU [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s always a routine, putting his kids to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Clark is the cutest dad, and I’m gonna fight everyone about it. Dick takes being a big brother very seriously. Jon and Damian are very spoiled babies. Dick is 16/17 here, Jon’s about/almost/just turned 2 and Damian’s 5/6. Figure everyone else’s age in between there yourself, haha. Cass has a test the next day, which is what she and Clark are talking about. I don’t know what Kon and Tim found so funny but they damn near dehydrated themselves, jesus kids.

“Five minutes!” Clark called up the stairs, hesitating to watch the dogs race each other up first. He heard the giggles in Tim’s room, the quick patter of feet rushing to another. “Everyone in their own room – and own _beds_ – or we aren’t going for ice cream tomorrow!”

He heard Jason curse, and rolled his eyes when it was followed quickly by, “Ow! Cass, why!”

He heard the sweet sound of Cassandra’s laughter, and found himself smiling too, as he turned back to the kitchen. There were still plates to wash, food to put away. Snacks to make sure weren’t snuck upstairs, and currently hidden under pillows.

When inventory was done, and he was satisfied with the counts, he exhaled, and glanced out into the star-lit fields. He could see the silhouettes of the horses still grazing, the low sounds of the chickens and pigs.

(And he thought of how he got here. He thought of Lois. He thought of Bruce. He wondered what they were both doing right now. Was Lois writing her next Pulitzer-winning story? Was she preparing for Cass and Jon’s visit in two weeks? Was Bruce still _alive_?

And then he heard another peal of laughter from upstairs, and could only think about how much he loved them. About how _head over heels_ he was for those seven souls upstairs.)

He grabbed the hand towel, and began wiping his hands as he slowly made his way towards the stairs, shutting off lights and locking doors as he went. He heard a gasp of panic when he hit the bottommost step, and slowed even further, giving whichever child it was that last chance to get back to his or her own room.

When he reached the landing, the only movement was the dogs, darting in and out of the rooms, making sure their charges were all still there. They spotted Clark instantly, and took it as being relieved of duty, both immediately trotting down to the room closest to Clark’s, and darting inside.

Clark went the opposite direction, starting with the room furthest from his.

The music was loud, but still low enough that Clark didn’t have it in him to scold the teenagers. Jason was leaned back in his pillows nonchalantly, a book in hand. Dick sat against his own wall, glancing down at his phone, trying not to smile at the fact Jason’s book was so obviously upside down.

“I won’t tell Tim you stole the cookies if you don’t. Just replace them before ice cream tomorrow.” Clark hummed, watching the guilty blush darken Jason’s cheeks as he tossed his handtowel over his shoulder. “Tell Miss Kory only ten more minutes, and then you’ll talk to her tomorrow.” He directed to Dick, as he snapped the light off. “Goodnight, boys. Love you.”

They both mumbled their blessings back, and Dick immediately raised his phone back to his ear and resumed his call.

The next bedroom was barely a step away, and all Clark had to do to reach it was spin around.

Kon and Tim were both flopped across their beds, Kon’s hand across his mouth, Tim’s face covered by both of his. It was quiet, but they were both laughing. _Howling_ , really, with tears running down both of their cheeks.

It filled Clark with the purest joy, when he saw the two of them like this. When he saw the proof of their friendship, and remembered how quickly, how _easily_ , they fell into it. Kon may have still struggled to fit in, both in society and sometimes in the family, but Clark was eternally grateful to know that his eldest blood son was not alone, was _never_ alone, thanks to Tim.

Tim noticed him in the doorway first, and fell into a new fit of chuckles, grabbing his pillow and throwing it over his face, like he was trying to smother himself.

“Do I want to know?” Clark asked in amusement. Kon couldn’t remove his hand from his mouth, just shook his head gently. Clark paused, looking between the boys again, then shook his own head. “Yeah.” He hummed, snapping the light off. “I don’t want to know. Love you. G’night.”

There was no callback this time, just a deep inhale, for more laughter.

Cassandra’s room was next, and she was sitting in her bed expectantly, though Clark could tell by the look on her face she was worried, her dark eyes darting to the corner, towards the one bedroom Clark hadn’t gotten to yet.

He sauntered into the room, accepted her nightly embrace and kissed her temple.

“Goodnight, princess.” He whispered, and she smiled softly up at him. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

Cassandra pursed her lips, gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“You’ll do great.” Clark promised. Kissed her forehead again. “Sleep tight. We’ll go over it all again over breakfast, okay?”

She nodded, and as Clark moved away, she grabbed his wrist with one hand, and signaled with the other. Her ring and middle finger pressed tight to her palm, the pinky and pointer straight up in the air, and the thumb stuck out to the side.

_I love you._

Clark grinned, and held her cheek. “Love you, too.”

And he had just made it back to the door, when she called out, “Damian.”

Clark paused, and looked back.

“Damian.” She repeated quietly. “Thinking about. Bruce. Again.”

_Ah._

He nodded knowingly, then smiled, and murmured, “Goodnight, Cassie.”

He watched her lie down, and flicked her light off, then exhaled as he stepped towards the next room.

The light was already off here, but shapes still danced across the walls from the spinning nightlight in the corner. Animals and stars, giving the room a warm glow.

The dogs were both on the floor. Titus under the crib and Krypto at the end of the bed. The cat, Alfred, was lying right above him, curled up in a ball on the comforter. Purring contently.

Jon was standing in his crib, clutching the sides, staring silently at the bed nearby. He looked blankly at Clark, for just a moment, before returning attention to the bed, and carefully reaching out.

“Daaaaaa.”

If there was an occupant in the bed, they couldn’t be seen. There was just a lump of blankets towards the headboard, and it twitched at Jon’s call. Clark blinked, and moved across the room.

“Damian?” He asked softly. Damian didn’t respond, so he sat on the edge of the mattress. Put his hand on the top curve of the lump, and rubbed gently. “Honey? Everything okay?”

There was a pause, then Damian took a deep inhale, and a deeper exhale.

“It’s okay.” Clark promised, under Jon’s sudden whining. He glanced over to the baby. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Jon called again, shaking the side of his crib. Clark patted Damian’s side again before standing, taking two steps towards the crib and snatching the two-year-old up in his arms.

“You can _always_ tell me.” Clark continued, sitting on the mattress once more. Jon groaned one more time, reaching for the blanket, and tugging it ferociously backwards.

It took a moment, but finally, Damian moved. Slowly shifted and rolled over, looking up at Clark with big, dark, sad eyes – Bruce’s, exactly.

“Can you…” He croaked out, and it sounded like he’d been crying, though there was no proof of it on his face. “Can you…tell me about my dad?”

Clark didn’t react – didn’t need to, really. This was a common inquiry, as Damian got older. Not often, not every day. Once a month, normally less.

The problem was that the boy had never known Bruce, and it filled him with anguish that no six-year-old should have, when he thought about him. Thought about the man he never knew, the one all of his original siblings got to – though Tim barely.

It broke Clark’s heart.

He smiled, though. Ran his fingers through Damian’s hair as Jon reached for his brother with a squeal. Because it was something he’d promised himself he’d do. Regardless of what really happened, Clark wasn’t going to let Bruce die. He wasn’t going to let Bruce be forgotten. Not by the League, not by the world.

But most specifically, not by his kids.

“He was very strong.” Clark hummed, as Damian sat up a little, and gently took Jon into his own arms. Opposite of Kon and Tim, Damian struggled with the newest addition to the family, and it took them a while to begin to cultivate that bond. But now that it’d started growing, it seemed there was no stopping it. “He always ate his vegetables.”

Damian scoffed, as he settled Jon into his side, as Jon took hold of his fingers and smiled up at the older boy.

“But,” Clark grinned. “He loved _pizza_. And ice cream.” A pause. “And cookies. He loved cookies _so much_.”

“…Nu-uh.” Damian pouted, though continued to look hopefully upwards. “Jason said Batman didn’t eat pizza.”

“Oh, please.” Clark laughed. “Your dad loved pizza so much, he has a pizza _named after him_ up in Gotham. The Justice League had a pizza party one year on the Watchtower? Got thirteen pizzas. And your dad ate more pizza than _Barry_ did.”

Damian’s eyes widened at that.

“Mhm. Your dad was a junk food _monster_.” Clark continued. “Got scolded by Alfred at least once, every time I visited.”

“…What kind of pizza did he like?” Damian asked softly. Jon gurgled.

“All kinds. Classic pepperoni probably the most.” Clark shrugged. “He liked to get supreme pizza, and claim it was healthy because it had _vegetables_ on it.”

Damian cracked a smile at that.

“He was smart, then.” Damian supplied, and Clark could do nothing but agree with him. “…What else did he like?”

Clark inhaled to respond, but a voice from the doorway did it for him.

“He liked you.” Damian jumped, clutched to Jon, and Clark spun around, to find Dick leaning against the doorframe. “He liked _you_ a _lot_.”

Damian huffed, and Dick grinned, pushing off the wall and strolling into the room. Jon laughed loudly and clapped his hands, as Dick reached for him, and swung him into the air, as he took the toddler’s spot at Damian’s side, and snuggled the child into his arm as well. Despite Damian’s pout, he and Jon both curled into Dick’s embrace, and Clark couldn’t help but grin as the eldest kissed the two boys firmly on their foreheads.

“In fact, I daresay he _loved_ you.” Dick continued to Damian. “You were _favorite_ , you know.”

Damian tried to hide his face in Dick’s shirt, but Clark caught the blush anyway. “…Nu-uh.”

“ _Yeah_ -huh.” Dick teased. “He loved you _so much_. Even more than Clark does. And how much does Clark love you again?”

Clark smiled.

“Moo’! More da moo’!” Jon shouted gleefully.

“More than the moon.” Damian whispered, glancing back up at Clark, blue eyes shining.

“That’s right.” Clark agreed. “I love you more than the moon. And Bruce loved you _even more_ than that.”

“…I miss him.” Damian breathed, almost guiltily. “I miss him and I didn’t even _know_ him.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Clark cooed, running his fingers over Damian’s hair. “And I’m sorry for that. I really am.”

“But you _can_ know this.” Dick tried softly. “You can know that, if there was anything Bruce _wanted_ you – or me or Timbo or Cassie or Jay – to know, it’s that he loved you.” He leaned his chin against Damian’s forehead, and squeezed his arm. “He loved us _so much_. More than _anything_. And he’d…he’d be here with us if he could be.”

Damian nodded silently, looking from Clark to Jon as the baby reached for him, and curled deeper into Dick’s chest to be closer to him. Jon mimicked the movement towards Damian too. “…I know.”

“Good.” Dick smiled, pecking Damian’s forehead with kisses. “And do you know how much _I_ love you?”

And it would be a challenge, for Damian, to not smile at praise from his big brother. But Clark caught the little grin, and couldn’t stop one from appearing on his face a well.

“More than…” And suddenly his hand slipped from Damian’s arm to his side, and he began to mercilessly tickle. “… _all the pizzas in the whole wide world!_ ”

Damian yelped, and Jon squealed as Dick tickled him too, as the two younger immediately fell into peals of laughter and the three of them fell back against Damian’s pillows.

Clark allowed it for a few seconds, listening as Dick pressed kisses to their cheeks, before he laughed, “Okay, okay, Dick. That’s enough.”

Dick slowed his assault, releasing Damian to let him flounder in his blankets as he moved off the bed, bouncing Jon on his hip. Clark let him calm Jon down again, keeping his focus solely on Damian.

“Feel a little better?” Clark asked gently. Damian thought about it, watching as Clark rearranged his blanket, as Alfred the cat came crawling up to lie next to his head, before nodding once. “I’m glad. Think you can sleep for me?” Damian nodded again. “Great. You come get me in my room, if you can’t. Okay?”

“Okay.” Damian murmured.

“Okay.” Clark repeated, taking Damian’s face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Goodnight little man. Love you.”

“More than the moon.” Damian recited, and Clark couldn’t help but grin. Rub his nose against Damian’s, and nuzzle his face.

“More than every star in the sky.” He swore. One more kiss to his forehead before he leaned back. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

Damian nodded, and snuggled down into his blanket, turning to watch Clark gently take Jon back from Dick.

“Thanks for your help.” Clark muttered. “Back to bed, young man.”

“I heard Cass tell you. Thought I’d come check it out myself.” Dick explained quietly, leaning forward to accept Clark’s kiss to his cheek. “G’night, old man.”

Clark watched him sway back down the hall, heard the clear voice of Jason asking if Damian and Jon were alright.

“Daaaaaa!”

Immediately he brought his attention back to Jon, who was leaning over his shoulder, waving at Damian.

“Mhm.” Clark sang, gently placing Jon back in his crib. “Say ‘night, night, Dami.’”

“Nigh’, nigh’, Dam!” Jon waved cheerfully. Damian blinked, then smiled softly, and waved back.

Clark hummed, smacking a wet kiss to Jon’s cheek. “G’night, Jonno.”

Jon mimicked the gesture, lightly kissing Clark’s cheek back. “Nigh’, Dada.”

Clark ruffled Jon’s hair, before backing slowly to the door. Both Damian and Jon watched him, until he blew them a kiss, glanced down at the dogs with a quick, “Take care of them, guys.” and moved to his own room.

He undressed slowly, quietly, giving the universe time to create a problem. Someone had to go to the bathroom, someone needed water, Damian decided he couldn’t sleep, whatever. But it never came, and by the time he was ready for sleep himself, he could hear Kon’s light snores.

He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. Made a mental list for the next day. What stories he was working on for the Planet, what groceries needed to be bought. What after school activities there were, whose shower night it would be. What he was going to make for breakfast, and dinner, and whose turn it was to help him make everyone’s lunches.

Finally, he dropped down onto his own bed. Pulled the blankets up to his chest as he flopped back against the pillows. Laid there a moment, listened to Jason’s low music, and the creak of Jon and Damian’s nightlight as it spun. The breeze of the wind over the fields outside.

Slowly, he rolled onto his side, towards his nightstand. Stared past his glasses, at the two-fold picture frame that sat under his lamp. Almost behind it.

One side was Lois, poor, sweaty, exhausted Lois, holding a newborn Jon on a hospital bed, surrounded by the other six children. The first real family portrait he had. The first one with everyone in it.

The other side was Bruce. Just Bruce. A few months before he disappeared. Driving a car far too fast. Laughing, because Clark had just claimed he was going to kill them both.

Bruce was peaking over his sunglasses, half-posing for the picture Clark was snapping quickly, to document their last moments. His blue eyes were bright, mischievous. _Happy_.

It was film Clark didn’t get developed until after the kids showed up.

He stared at it in the dark of his room, at those eyes that seemed translucent in the gloom, in particular. The ones that his son inherited. The ones that Clark still got to see, every day, in Damian.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and whispered:

“Goodnight, Bruce. I love you.”

There was no answer. Clark rolled back towards his empty bed.

**Author's Note:**

> [Other Brood AU things.](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/tagged/brood-au)   
> 


End file.
